


As Above, So Below

by aestheticAshes



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Afton-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe, Charlotte "Charlie" Emily is Alive, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Explicit Sexual Content, Father/Son Incest, Flashbacks, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Michael Afton Has PTSD, Michael Afton Needs a Hug, Michael Afton is the older brother, Michael-centric, Minor William Afton | Dave Miller/Henry Emily, Murder Husbands, Not Beta Read, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Past Rape/Non-con, Purple Guy is William Afton, Serial Killers, Why Did I Write This?, William Afton | Dave Miller being a Jerk, it's also in the past though, story starts on a Bad Note
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25484815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestheticAshes/pseuds/aestheticAshes
Summary: Michael moved out when he was 19.He's 23, now, and life is good. He has a house of his own, friends, a 'niece' and a 'nephew', a crush, and no contact with his father since he moved out.He's also got blood on his hands...... And more keeps splattering on.With the return of a girl he grew up with, threats of his father materializing back into his life, and more and more chances of getting caught piling up in front of him, he's got a lot to deal with before he'll ever manage a "happily ever after".
Relationships: Michael Afton & Original Character(s), Michael Afton/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	As Above, So Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The first part of this chapter (literally 11K words) is a _very explicit, very detailed_ occurrence of William Afton _raping his 19 year old son._ This event is occurring in a nightmare, and _ends at the line break_. Skipping it will not damage your understanding of the story at all, despite it being something that really happened to Michael, as there is less explicit discussion/evidence of it after the line break and as the story goes on.
> 
> Please be safe when reading this. This is technically the only instance of rape in the story and is a past event, however it is extremely explicit and there will be other flashbacks to it later on in less detail, as well as flashbacks to the true 'ending' of the event that took place the morning after.
> 
> This will likely be the final warning provided.
> 
> So, without further ado, please continue if you feel safe to do so.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“N-no, dad please―”_

_He was 19. He was seconds away from crying. He’d been packing for the last week or so, after he’d managed to get a job last year and save up enough money to move into his own apartment. But he hadn’t actually told his dad yet._

_He’d known something bad would happen if he did._

_“Dad, please―”_

_He expected his father to hit him for putting his hands up to defend himself. He expected he’d be told to shut up._

_But his dad just crowded into his personal space until he backed up against the kitchen counter and then pinned his hands to the cabinets below. It hurt and it sent a shiver up his spine. He had to look his dad in the eyes and it made him shiver again._

_Those blue eyes, the same blue eyes he had, were cold and empty just like always. But that_ **_grin…_ **

_“Say that again, Mikey.” He said, lowly._

_He didn’t sound angry, but Michael knew that he was. He knew his dad not sounding angry was a trap he couldn’t afford to fall into. And he knew he needed to do as he was told―just one more time. Just this one last time. And then he could leave and if he was lucky his dad wouldn’t find him alone after this._

_“Wh-what part?”He asked, because he didn’t know if his father wanted him to tell him he was leaving again so he_ **_could_ ** _hit him or if he wanted to hear him begging not to be hurt._

_Neither would surprise him._

_“All of it.” His father replied, grin unchanged._

_Tears spilled over out of Michael’s eyes. But he took a breath and he said, “I’m moving out.” Swallowed and said, “Tomorrow morning.” And his dad’s grip on his arms tightened and he winced and squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to sob or hiccup, “Please don’t, dad, please.”_

_He was expecting his dad to let go of him, then. Was expecting for his dad to haul off and kick the shit out of him for daring to move out, even though he knew that ultimately his dad wouldn’t actually stop him._

_But the only part that happened was his dad letting go of him._

_“You’re a man now, Mikey,” He said, almost consideringly, not moving away at all. Just keeping him boxed in against the counter. And Michael peeked his eyes open to look at him, not sure he liked where this was headed but stupidly hopeful that this meant he wouldn’t get the shit kicked out of him tonight. “You have been for a while. Maybe…”_

_His dad trailed, eyes narrowing._

_Michael swallowed._

_“... Yeah.” His dad seemed to decide, “I think it’s high time I do this.”_

_Michael’s breath caught in his throat, heart speeding up,_ **_sure_ ** _he was going to be beaten within an inch of his life, but his― But William just grabbed him by the throat and_ **_kissed him._ **

_He didn’t kiss back. He was still as a statue aside from the way his racing heart made him shake. Then William made an annoyed noise and_ **_squeezed_ ** _and he gasped and William pushed his tongue into his mouth. He yelped, a bit, hands coming up to grab Willam’s shoulders on instinct. He meant to push him away, but he stopped short. Just left his hands there and let his arms go mostly limp._

_There was no use fighting William._

_He didn’t know how this was going to go, but he knew if he fought it would be much worse. So he left his hands there and stood still and let William tongue-fuck his mouth._

_And William released his throat, after a moment, hand landing instead on the counter behind him as he pressed closer and boxed him in further by putting his other hand on the counter as well. Michael felt… Felt_ **_him_ ** _against his leg, not yet hard but working toward it._

_He was just a little taller than Michael was, still, so it proved to be what Michael assumed was a good angle for William. He didn’t know for sure. He didn’t care. He tried to distance himself from what was happening, but it just… He couldn’t. Nothing in his head was any better than this was. He’d rather be present than imagining worse scenarios._

_When he inevitably started aching for a decent breath, unable to draw in more than a couple moments of air between the sludgy, anxious feeling in his belly and William’s tongue licking at the back of his mouth and touching his actual_ **_throat_ ** _from time to time, he made an unintended noise and let his hands grip a little tighter. William made a noise in reply, but did pull back for… Whatever reason._

_Michael wanted to spit, to scrub his mouth with his sleeve, but instead he just squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to draw in a real breath. This was… Ugh. This was disgusting. He wanted it to be over._

_William pulled back, and Michael’s eyes popped open as his hands fell to his sides._

_He wished he’d kept them shut._

_He let his weight rest on the edge of the counter even as he watched William begin to undo his pants, sliding the zipper down. His eyes were still cold and empty, smile still as dangerous as a knife-slash. And Michael had been able to feel that he was half-hard, before, but…_

_Well._

_Seeing it was a different beast._

_“Friend of yours told me you’re very good at this.” William said, almost sneering it, “So c’mere and do what you do best, Mikey.”_

_Michael almost gagged at the mere thought, even as part of him wondered who in the hell had told his dad about anything he’d done in high school. Even as he felt anger spark up that_ **_anyone_ ** _he knew would speak to his dad, least of all about how promiscuous he’d been a couple of years ago._

_But he knew better than to say no, and he knew better than to get angry with his father around._

_Again, fighting back against William was useless. This would only get worse the more he resisted._

_So he stepped away from the counter and sank to his knees. And William only grinned as he swallowed any of his own protests, any thought of how disgusting this was, and wrapped his lips around William’s hard cock. Thinking about it too much wouldn’t help anything._

_He sucked, trying in vain to pretend it was someone else―anyone else. His old drug dealer, one of his party buddies… Anyone but his_ **_dad._ ** _But, well… No mental images were forthcoming for anyone else, and part of him was glad because if he thought too much about blowing someone else he might get too into it._

_He pulled back, hand moving to try and spread the slickness of his spit down William’s shaft even as he dipped his head to lick up along the bottom side. William groaned, sounding pleased, and it made Michael’s stomach turn._

_He wrapped his lips back around the tip, focused on not choking, and sank as far as he could. Felt William’s cock hit the back of his throat and felt tears springing to his eyes again. He wanted this to be over. He wanted it to be over so badly. But he only had to get through it and then he could go to bed and tomorrow he was out of here._

_Tomorrow he was out of here._

_William’s hand landed in his hair, grabbing a handful and pulling―if Michael wasn’t into pain it probably would have been better, if he was honest. As it was he had to hold in a moan. There was_ **_no way_ ** _he was letting himself get any more into this than he absolutely had to._

_“Good boy, Mikey,” William said, “Hah, kid wasn’t joking. Best head I’ve gotten in years.”_

_Michael just kept his eyes shut and kept bobbing his head and sucking. Swallowed around his― around William’s cock as he sank all the way to the base and heard him moan. His dumb, traitorous body responded, of course. His stupid dick twitched at the same moment his stomach rolled uncomfortably._

_“Shit.” William hissed, “Talented little cockslut, aren’t you?”_

_He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and didn’t bother trying to reply, pulling back up to the tip and sucking hard. He tongued at the slit, because even if it was making his stomach do disgusted backflips he knew it felt good and the better it felt for William the sooner this would be over. And when William grunted and pulled his hair again, he knew he was doing just as good a job as William kept telling him he was._

_He sank back to the base, pulled back up and sucked, sank back down… It was a process. It wasn’t fast, wasn’t anything that’d probably actually get William off, but he could work up to that, right?_

_Ugh, just the thought of William finishing in his mouth or throat made him want to puke._

_The image was so visceral, as was the reaction, that he actually gagged slightly._

_It just made William groan._

_And then that hand was grabbing his hair again, but this time he twisted Michael’s hair around his hand and_ **_yanked._ ** _Michael couldn’t help moaning, given he wasn’t expecting it._

 _William laughed. Honestly_ **_laughed._ ** _“Like that, huh?” He asked._

_Michael, of course, didn’t respond._

_He kept at it, as he knew was expected of him, but then William was yanking his hair again and yanking him off his dick. He opened his eyes to look up at him, unwilling to move given the grip William had on his hair. There was a fine line between it feeling good and it being dangerous to him._

_William pulled again, until he was on his feet, then released his hair and pushed him back toward the counter. Michael went, feeling tears on his cheeks that were still drying. When had he stopped crying? He guessed it didn’t matter._

_“Sit down.” William told him, and he obeyed, sinking down to sit against the cabinets and finding he couldn’t make himself look away as William boxed him in there. Couldn’t make himself look away as William’s hard cock nudged at his lips until he obediently dropped his mouth open and let him push in with a groan. “Good boy, Mikey.”_

_Michael’s hands clenched into fists on the floor next to him._

_And then William started fucking his throat._

_A hand fisted in his hair, holding his head still against the cabinet as William used his mouth and throat like some kind of sex toy or cheap whore._

_Michael wished he could say he wasn’t the second one, but… God. The amount of people he’d let do this to him for a fucking dose of ecstacy back in high school… The amount of times he’d let his dealer fuck his brains out against the door of a bathroom stall at the school just for some weed…_

_He was cheap._

_He knew he was cheap._

_And he tried to focus on that instead of what was going on, but again it was in vain as the best course of action was to focus on this anyway. William moaned above him, fucking into his throat with enough force that Michael was pretty sure he was going to have trouble talking tomorrow, and Michael’s body again reacted two ways. His stomach churned, his stupid cock twitched._

_And then William was pressing as far in as he could, twitching in his mouth and throat as his hips hitched. And then his cock pulsed, pumping his release out into Michael’s poor abused throat, and he choked… Not that it made his father stop. Nothing short of him actually losing consciousness would make his father stop, if even that, and of that he was fairly certain._

_William withdrew before he was completely spent, spurting onto Michael’s tongue and then onto his lips, cheeks, and chin._

_Michael held as still as he could, trying to swallow and breathe at the same time and trying not to gag at the taste and the knowledge of what his dad just did to him. He could puke after his dad went to bed, or at least after he left the room._

_He hesitantly peeked his eyes open and saw William grinning down at him, eyes still cold and empty, grin still dangerous._

_Was…_

_Was this not over?_

_Almost as soon as the thought processed in his brain, William dragged him back to his feet by his hair and kissed him again. He still had seed in his mouth and on his face, but William didn’t seem to care._

_“Good boy,” William said after he pulled back, wiping the cum from Michael’s cheek but not bothering yet with the spot on his chin, “You did so well, Mikey.”_

_Michael struggled not to respond to that in any sort of way. He just sort of stared back at his dad and prayed that was all. Prayed it was over._

_He didn’t even know who he was praying to, but he was praying_ **_hard._ **

_“Now turn around.” He said, somewhat more flatly than anything else he’d said since his ‘what?’ when Michael had initially dropped the bombshell._

_Michael swallowed, ignoring the taste of cum the best he could, and squeezed his eyes shut. But he turned around, putting his back to William and almost managing not to yelp when William pushed his chest flush with the counter. His eyes flew back open, hands reaching for any purchase they could get to feel more secure._

_He was within reach of the knife block, and for a moment he humored the idea of grabbing a big one and… Well. It wasn’t like his dad would be the first person he killed, least of all the first family member. His body count right now was two, and both had been related to him. His dad would just be three, and he had a plausible reason for this one._

_… But it wasn’t worth it._

_And he was smart enough to know that he’d been placed within reach of the knife block on purpose, because if he could reach it?_

_So could his dad._

_The next breath he took hitched, almost a sob as tears sprang freshly to his eyes._

_He’d always made fun of the little dude for crying so much, and if he hadn’t felt like an asshole already after the kid died, he definitely felt like one more and more every time their dad left him sobbing with a split lip and bruised ribs._

_He expected his dad to either ignore it, as he had been so far, or to berate him and ‘give him something to cry about’. That was how it normally went, when his dad got it in his head to do something to him. He’d never done_ **_this_ ** _before, but the point still stood―usually he’d ignore it, likely because he figured he’d done enough to have given him something to cry about already, or he’d just make it worse on him for crying._

_He would have been relatively fine with either response right now._

_“Shh.” William said, almost gently, “No need for that, Mikey.”_

_The nearly comforting tone just made it worse, really. Michael squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling over and breath hitching again. And he thought, surely, that was going to make his dad angry at him. He’d just told him there was no need to cry and what was he doing? Crying harder?_

_But his dad only clicked his tongue, as if mildly annoyed but not really angry, and cut to the chase without further comment, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Michael’s jeans. He gave a moment of pause, though, clearly feeling the scars there if the way he moved his thumbs over them was any indicator._

_He pulled back, and Michael almost breathed a sigh of relief… But he knew it wasn’t over. His dad was just curious about the scars and once that curiosity was sated or he’d added a couple of his own to the mix, this would continue. Michael knew better than to hope it would stop._

_William’s hands tugged his pants down by the belt loops, and they slipped without too much effort considering Michael had been wearing them for going on eighteen hours now and they’d therefore stretched out. His boxers went with them, of course, and he could feel William_ **_staring._ **

_And then he felt him pushing his shirt and hoodie up his back, and_ **_felt_ ** _his eyes following the scars up to where they disappeared under the bunched up fabric at his shoulders._

_“Mikey,” William said, clicking his tongue, “Letting people cut you?”_

_And Michael didn’t have a good response, so he just tried to suppress another sob at being so exposed. It still shook him, though―the sob._

_“Aw, Mikey… Do I need to kill them for you?” It came out in a gentle, crooning sort of way―like he was asking a child if he needed to check for monsters in the closet._

_And Michael could only shake his head, maybe too vehemently. And his dad crooned at him again, grabbing his hips too roughly and digging his nails in. One hand set his nails over the top half of a phrase that one of Michael’s closer party buddies had carved with a safety pin. It was a well-meaning inside joke―‘Space Slut’, it said, with little stars carved around it, because the one thing Michael had been genuinely interested in aside from taking so much PCP he couldn’t see straight had always been space._

_It was this carving that William seemed focused on as well, because Michael felt his body move as if he was trying to get a better look at it._

_“Space slut?” He questioned, in an almost disbelieving way, digging his nails into the ‘space’ part._

_“It was…” Michael took a breath,_ **_really_ ** _trying to hold back a sob, “It was an inside joke. With friends. Bec-because I wouldn’t stop t-talking about space.”_

_William hummed and seemingly decided to drop the subject, digging his nails in on the other side too and moving closer once more. His cock, half-hard once again, pressed against the inside of one of his thighs._

_“Please don’t.” He said, softly, already bracing for the retaliation he was sure was going to come._

_William laughed._

_And, sickeningly, his cock twitched against Michael’s thigh._

_Even more sickeningly, Michael felt his own twitch in response._

_It was half-hard, kept that way by the disgust and fear so it would go no further, but… But the fact it was half-hard at all made his stomach roll, and the twitch made it worse._

_“Say that again.” William purred, and his tone was dangerous._

_Michael half-sobbed, barely cutting it off. “Please don’t.”_

_And William twitched again. “Good boy.” He said, like he hadn’t told Michael to repeat his plea not to―_

_“Dad,” He yelped, feeling him brush against a higher point on his thigh, dangerously close, “Dad, please, I don’t―”_

_He sobbed for real this time, feeling William twitch and feeling it brush against the underside of his own sac. And William chuckled, fingers flexing on his hips._

_“Close your legs.” He said, and for half a second Michael thought he was berating him for having been a cheap whore when he was younger, until he realized it was an actual order and shifted to press his thighs together. “Good boy.”_

_He sobbed again at the feeling of William hardening between his legs, burying his face into his elbow to keep from making too much noise. He shuddered, stomach rolling, while William began to thrust between his thighs. It was a familiar feeling, one he usually enjoyed, and that just made it worse because his body wasn’t exactly averse to it but his brain_ **_knew better._ **

_“C’mon, Mikey,” William crooned, the hand that had been over his favorite carving coming up and grabbing a handful of his hair instead, pulling until he’d lifted his head and couldn’t muffle himself in his arm, “I’m not gonna hurt ya, kiddo. You’re safe.”_

_He tried to swallow the next sob, tried not to sniffle, but only managed the first one._

_“What are you so scared of?”_

_Telling the whole truth was a bad idea. Telling him he was more disgusted than he was scared was just an invitation for something more painful than what his body could reasonably translate into pleasure unless he was in a completely different headspace… One inaccessible to him without a hard dose of a strong drug or two._

_… But it was an invitation to at least maybe make this a little less horrible in the end by making it hurt less, and he would take it._

_“N-no lube,” He hiccuped, “Scared of…”_

_He trailed off, but William seemed to get the idea because he momentarily paused his surprisingly gentle thrusts between his thighs. He crooned softly, this one somehow not coming off as mocking in any way, and his grip turned gentle both in his hair and on his hip._

_“Aw, baby boy…” William said, “You think I wouldn’t prep you?”_

_This was some outright manipulation, and Michael… Michael knew that. William being kind was always manipulation, especially when it came in the process of him doing something to Michael. Just an attempt to get him to relax and go along with it, right now, he knew._

_And he wasn’t fooling Michael at all, but the promise of prep and prior promises he wasn’t going to hurt him made him relax a little anyway._

_He hiccuped again, quietly saying, “N-never kn-know when someone’s gonna t-try.”_

_William’s grip on his hair eased further, and he kept his head up because he wasn’t sure he was allowed to drop it back into his arm. A tight coil of fear took hold of his stomach, worried what he might do now that he wasn’t twisting his hair around his hand and holding tight. But, in the end, he just ran his fingers through his hair._

_And Michael…_

_Figured if there was no use fighting, then there was no use thinking._

_He may as well let it happen._

_He may as well let his mind wander to more pleasant thoughts, or try to just shut out the ones about right now._

_He sighed, then sniffled, and kept his eyes closed._

_And relaxed._

_And William made an approving noise, still running his fingers through his hair, and slowly canted his hips back. Michael’s stomach churned at the slow slide of his cock between his thighs, but he just… Tried to ignore it. Tried to imagine it was someone else. Because there was no point not letting himself enjoy it, if it was going to happen anyway. If he was going to get fucked, he wanted to enjoy it._

_Even if that meant checking out for the whole experience after this and thinking about his old drug dealer._

_William shifted, pressing in between his thighs again after pulling out completely, and this time his cock lay right beneath Michael’s. He pulled Michael’s hip, the one he was holding, and Michael pushed himself back, letting his ass hit William’s hips and feeling William twitch between his thighs. Michael hadn’t realized how much of William hadn’t already been in there, hadn’t realized how much he was holding back from thrusting between his legs because of the cabinets. But with Michael’s hips further from the edge of the counter, he had enough room to bury his cock to the hilt between his thighs._

_He already knew, of course, but the feeling and reminder of how big he was made Michael’s cock twitch with interest, and he ignored the disgust that came when he remembered this was his fucking_ **_father._ **

_William drew back, slowly, dragging just under Michael’s cock and causing a pleasant shudder to run up his back, cock twitching again. And Michael took a breath, shifted a little as his father began to thrust back in, and then on the very end of his next pull back he squeezed his thighs together tighter. His father gave an appreciative moan, tugging gently at his hair, and Michael didn’t bother muffling it when the feeling made him give a soft moan in reply._

_“Good boy, Mikey.” He purred, nudging at the back of his head until he laid it back down on the counter, “Let’s not strain your neck, hm?” And Michael made a noise in response, because he knew his father expected_ **_some kind_ ** _of response, and William chuckled. “Now what do we say, Mikey?”_

_Nothing in his life had prepared him for this moment―for his father to have his cock buried between his thighs, hand in his hair while he thrusted leisurely, dragging against all the sensitive underbits of his own cock, and for him to ask him what he was supposed to fucking say in response to him having him lay his head back down. Nothing except… Well._

_Nothing except what his dad used to do when he kicked the shit out of him._

_“Th-thank you, daddy.”_

_He only had to say thank you, he_ **_knew_ ** _that. But the last time his dad had pulled this he’d been eight, and… Well. Michael had still called him daddy back then._

_He was not expecting William to groan, twitching a couple of times before actually coming up to full hardness again at last there between his thighs._

_“Pretty little thing,” William sighed, tugging at his hair again and continuing to thrust. “Such a good boy.”_

_And then his father was laying his weight softly over his half-exposed back, hand leaving his hair to brush across his still-wet cheeks. He swallowed, and when one finger came tracing over his bottom lip he shuddered. Squeezed his thighs a little tighter on instinct and heard his dad groan appreciatively once more._

_“Open up,” He uttered, voice too close to his ears and finger tapping softly against his bottom lip._

_So he did―he slowly opened his mouth and let his dad’s finger slip in over his teeth, over his tongue. The feeling of a finger stroking over his tongue was so familiar his eyes fluttered half-open, catching the sight of his dad’s hand at his mouth, and then catching his reflection in the window over the counter. He shuddered at the sight―at seeing himself bent over at the hips, laid out for his father to have his way with, finger in his mouth and cheeks red and still shiny with tears._

_It was disgusting, but…_

_He was really starting to care less about how nasty it was._

_Again, no use fighting or dwelling on the unpleasantness._

_“Suck, baby boy.” William purred, slipping a second finger into his mouth._

_So he did._

_He laved his tongue over the two digits, suckling softly and watching his reflection. His utterly debauched and disgusting reflection. Watching himself suck on his father’s fingers while his father thrust slow and gentle between his clenched thighs, watching and feeling and knowing his own cock was twitching further to life with each soft drag of flesh and each moment of being able to see what his father was doing to him._

_A third finger slid in alongside the other two with no issue, and he gave it the same treatment._

_With all three fingers appropriately wetted and stringy with spit, William withdrew them from his mouth, and then withdrew from between his thighs._

_He hated hearing himself whine at the loss. Hated seeing William smile and hearing him chuckle._

_“Oh, how am I going to keep you busy now, Mikey?” He asked, almost dramatically, as he moved to stand at his side, one finger starting to tease at his crack and then at his waiting hole. He laughed softly, then, “That pretty mouth of yours is so useful, after all.”_

_Michael didn’t respond, just tried to breathe as one slick finger circled his hole and slowly,_ **_slowly_ ** _pressed inside. It’d been over a year since the last time anyone else touched him, least of all been inside him, so… It was enough to temporarily steal his breath._

_William’s hand came, gripping him softly under the chin, and turned him to face him there at his side. Michael blinked his eyes open, looking at his dad as his thumb stroked over his slick bottom lip and one finger slowly began to thrust inside of him, opening him up._

_“Look at you,” William purred, “So pretty and red, just like those lips. You’ve got your mother’s lips, you know? So full and soft…” He laughed again, “So glad I got to use them.”_

_And he teased him like that, softly, while he spread him open with his fingers, thumb occasionally pulling his jaw down to press into his mouth, set on his tongue and make him whine._

_It was humiliating, really._

_And then, almost too suddenly, William was withdrawing his fingers, taking a step away. Michael just blinked at him, unsure if he’d done something wrong or if his dad was just trying to admire his handiwork. And William cocked his head at him, eyes roving over his body, and then he_ **_grinned._ **

_“The living room has a mirror,” He said, as if musing, “A nice full-length one…” And then he patted Michael on the ass, pulling his own pants up and re-securing them. “Pants up, to the living room.”_

_So Michael straightened up, feeling disgusting, and headed quietly to the living room after he pulled his pants back up over his hips rather than around his thighs._

_“In front of the mirror,” William ordered, and Michael took his place there. “I will be_ **_right_ ** _back,” His father said, then, “Stay there.”_

_So he did, and he looked at himself in the mirror―cock hard in his pants, face red and streaked with tears, clothes rumpled and body lightly trembling. He looked a right mess. And he was about to look worse._

_William returned as he’d said he would, with a small box. He dug into it only momentarily before withdrawing a bottle of lube with a grin on his face. And he undid his pants, approaching and offering Michael the bottle._

_“Go on, baby boy.” He said, as Michael hesitantly took it, “Make sure it’s not going to hurt.”_

_Michael swallowed, but opened it and poured some into his hand. This was probably also an invitation to lube himself up, but… He still just really wanted this to be over. So he reached out with that hand and took hold of his father’s length, since the lube wasn’t cold at all, and began to stroke. It wasn’t any worse than sucking him had been, but somehow it felt dirtier. And he could, when he glanced up between his lashes, see William grinning, eyes half lidded. His eyes flicked back down to watch himself lube his father up._

_And then William was laying a hand on his hip, lips pressing to his temple and making him glance up again. He kissed him, tongue slipping into his mouth immediately, and Michael let it happen. He didn’t argue when William undid his pants as well, didn’t argue when he took the bottle of lube back. Didn’t argue when he heard him slicking his fingers and didn’t even think of fighting when a finger pressed back into him, much wetter this time._

_They stayed like that a while―Michael stroking his father’s stiff cock while his tongue thrust into his mouth and his fingers made sure he was good and stretched open. Michael stroked his thumb over the tip of his dad’s cock, rubbing at the slit, and his father groaned into his mouth, making him shudder. His fingers shifted inside of him and Michael jolted with a gasp when they brushed his prostate._

_William pulled back a moment later, withdrawing his fingers as well, and Michael tried not to whine as he released his cock and let him move away. William moved behind him, sitting down in his armchair, and Michael saw him beckon him over. So he shuffled to him, glad his hoodie fell just far enough that his cock was covered._

_“Face the mirror and come sit in my lap, baby boy.” He purred._

_And Michael obeyed._

_William didn’t pull him immediately onto his cock, just had him sit there until his fingers came up to pull his hoodie up to his ribs and reveal his hard and aching cock. It wasn’t fully hard, not yet, but…_

_William crooned softly, lifting the hoodie higher and eventually managing to get Michael to lift his arms so he could take it off completely. He tossed it over onto the couch._

_“Wouldn’t want it to get dirty, eh?” He purred softly, laying his head on Michael’s shoulder even as a hand came to wrap softly around his cock with a pleased sigh, “So pretty, Mikey. So pretty for me.”_

_He stroked once, and Michael gasped softly, feeling himself twitch in his father’s hand. And William grinned, beginning to stroke him slowly and only grinning wider when he was unable to hold back a moan and unable to keep from leaning into his father’s chest. And with just a few strokes, Michael twitched up to full hardness in his grasp, moaning softly as he leaned into the firm chest behind him._

_He felt his father twitch there, against his back._

_And then William spoke, and he said something Michael had been half-expecting this whole time and knew was a trap. “Do you want me to stop, Mikey?”_

_He shook his head, soundlessly, because saying yes would only end in pain. Saying he didn’t want him to stop was the only safe thing, and even that wasn’t guaranteed._

_“Say it.” William said, a little more flatly._

_“N-no, daddy.”_

_Was it overkill? Sure. But his father seemed to like it earlier, so…_

_William grinned in his reflection, hand still stroking Michael’s flushed cock. “Good boy,” He purred, “I’m glad.”_

_‘Of course you are,’ said Michael’s brain, ‘You’re a sick fuck.’_

_But he didn’t say it out loud._

_“Lift up, baby.” He said, then, releasing Michael’s cock to grab his other hip instead, and Michael obediently lifted up and let him shift him back, over his cock. The hand left his hip again, likely moving to steady his cock so Michael could sink down onto it without issue, “Gonna fill you up, pretty little thing.” And against his will Michael whined at the thought of being fucked even if it was his dad. “Aw, you want that, baby? You want daddy’s cock to fill you up?”_

_“Y-yes, daddy.”_

_“Then sit down, Mikey. Let daddy make you feel good.”_

_So, squeezing his eyes shut, Michael carefully shifted down until he felt his father poking at his entrance. Then he took a breath. Rubbed softly with a rock of his hips and finally, finally pressed down._

_The head slipping in past his rim was enough to make him gasp, and he got no time to recover as his dad’s hands both gripped his hips again now and pulled him downward. He-_

_He was so_ **_big._ **

_There was so much, and every time he thought it was over he realized he was still moving and he still wasn’t actually sitting in his dad’s lap again yet._

_Finally feeling his father’s thighs against the back of his own, feeling his weight settle there, gave him a moment of pause. A half-hesitant hand twitched on the armrest before coming to touch his belly, and he could feel― he could_ **_feel_ ** _his dad there._

_“Pretty boy,” William sighed, so soft and appreciative, “Such a precious little thing…”_

_One hand moved from his hip, wrapping around his cock again, and he gasped. Let himself lean into his dad’s chest again, a bit, and heard him hum in approval._

_“You’ve been so good for me, Mikey.” He sighed in that same tone, “And I’ve been so selfish. You haven’t even cum yet. And here I am coming up on a second time… How greedy of me.”_

_Michael could only whine, softly, eyes peeking open again to see his reflection. And he watched William watch his own hand just sit wrapped around the base of his cock, and watched his other hand come to rest on his thigh. Watched him gently scrape his nails over the skin and shuddered in response._

_“Let daddy take care of you, baby,” William purred, slipping his hand up to his tip and thumbing his slit. Teasingly, he smeared the pre that was building around. “Let daddy make you feel_ **_real_ ** _good... It’s what a pretty thing like you deserves.”_

_He kept teasing the slit with his thumb for the first couple of moments, and Michael could only shudder and pant quietly, thighs quivering and twitching. And his shuddering made him tense around his father’s cock, a bit, which made him groan, and Michael’s brain was too far gone to care who was moaning in his ear at this point. His father twitched inside of him and he just panted._

_He abandoned his teasing after a moment, beginning to stroke his son’s cock for real, and Michael sagged against him with a weak moan._

_“Daddy,” He heard himself utter, softly, as he twitched in his father’s hand and around his thick, hard cock._

_William made an approving noise in response, and didn’t stop what he was doing._

_And all too soon, embarrassingly soon, Michael was struggling not to squirm on his father’s cock, gasping and moaning and clenching around him._

_“Daddy,” He whined, and William crooned in his ear._

_“Gonna come, baby boy?”_

_He nodded, unable to make himself say yes even though he was this far gone already._

_“Then do it, Mikey.”_

_And so with a gasp and a cut-off moan, he did. And his dad stroked him through it, twitching inside of him._

_He got only a moment to catch his breath before his dad was grabbing his hips a little more tightly than before and_ **_lifting him up._ ** _The drag was a lot to handle immediately post-orgasm, but Michael was no stranger to overstimulation. He could deal. Especially if it meant this would be over sooner._

 _William pulled him back down rather hard, jabbing against his prostate and groaning into his ear. “So tight for me, baby… Squeezing around daddy’s cock like a fucking_ **_vice…_ ** _Such a good boy. Gonna fuck you so good…”_

_And he pulled him up again, pushing him back down when he reached the head. He just… Used him for those first couple moments when Michael couldn’t do anything but take it._

_“Such a precious little slut.” William purred into his ear, “Taking it so good. Making so many pretty noises for daddy.”_

_Michael peeked his eyes open again, unsure when exactly he’d closed them, and watched in the mirror as he was used like little more than a heavier-than-average fleshlight. He could watch his father’s cock disappear inside of him from the angle of the mirror, and it made his own poor, oversensitive cock give a valiant attempt at hardness. It’d get there eventually, he knew._

_“Do you like watching yourself, Mikey?” William whispered, teasing at his earlobe with his tongue, “Do you like seeing daddy fuck you like the pretty little whore you are?”_

_He still had an ounce or two of sass in him, despite it being a bad idea, so he let his mouth form the words, “Wh-whores don’t get treated this nice, daddy.” And at the tightening of William’s fingers on his hips, he said, “But I― I do like watching you fill me up like this, daddy.”_

_William’s grip loosened a fraction, back to the tightness of before, and he chuckled, “Yeah?”_

_“Y-yeah.”_

_“You like seeing me use you? Seeing my cock spread you open?” His voice dropped, “Seeing your perfect little tight hole swallow my cock and still beg for more when I’m already balls deep?”_

_The words sent a spike of arousal straight to his cock, making it jerk up, half-hard once more. He clenched around his father, whining, and said, “Yes, daddy. I― I love seeing―”_

_He couldn’t make himself finish the sentence. Partially because he didn’t know if he would get smacked for cursing and partially because he wasn’t that far gone yet._

_“You love seeing…?” William prompted, amused and voice gruff._

_“I love seeing it when your big, thick cock pushes into me,” He replied, feeling his face burn, “Y-you make me feel so good when you’re inside me, daddy…”_

_William crooned, hands slipping from his hips and coming to grasp the underside of his thighs. He made him lift them, until he didn’t have any chance of steadying himself except with his hands, and grasped him by his ass to lift him up again. He didn’t seem to have any trouble lifting him up even though Michael was unable to help at all, and Michael would have been more surprised if he didn’t know he was skin and bones._

_“Look at that, baby,” He purred, nipping his earlobe, “Look at how well you take me. How good does it feel to have me inside you, Mikey? How good does it feel when you can see my big, thick cock filling up your cute little hole?”_

_“S-so good, daddy,” He moaned, unable to stop it, “P-please, I― Please give it to me harder, daddy, I want it so bad…”_

_“You want it harder?” He asked, “Want me to use you?”_

_“Y-yes, please, daddy.”_

_William laughed, lifting him off of his cock completely but not letting go of him. Michael whined, trying not to squirm. Trying not to be a disgusting little whore and try to press back down onto him. But he―_

_But he wanted to. He wanted it._

_He wanted his father’s thick, heavy cock spearing him open again and he wanted to watch while his father fucked him and used him like the whore he was. He wanted to see every thrust up into him until he couldn’t see straight anymore. He wanted to see his father twitch and watch it when his balls tightened and he spilled into him and filled him up with his cum. He wanted to get_ **_wrecked._ **

_It was so disgusting but…_

_But it was so_ **_hot._ **

_“Daddy,” He whined, softly._

_And William chuckled again, setting him down in his lap and nudging his head with his chin until he tipped it to the side and one of his father’s hands came to sweep his hair out of the way so he could kiss his neck. Which he did, in several places, before he began to lick, making Michael shudder. He bit down, then, hard, and Michael moaned. He began to suck and nibble at the spot and Michael knew it was going to bruise. He was going to have a hickey. His dad was going to leave a hickey on him._

_When he was panting and no longer hung up on having been pulled off of his cock, his dad softly picked him up again, standing up and walking him across the living room to the mirror. He sat him down there, and Michael stayed obediently still when William moved away. But he shook, a little._

_“You’re gonna like this one, Mikey.” He said, reaching into that box again and pulling out― Oh, God. A video camera. Michael shuddered. “We’re gonna watch this later tonight.” William promised, grin on his face just as dangerous as the one that had preceded this. “Now pants off. All the way.”_

_He sat the camera next to the mirror, facing Michael and sure to catch all the same things he was going to see in the mirror. Michael stripped out of his pants, face_ **_burning_ ** _as he did. And then he turned the camera on, started recording as he walked around behind Michael._

_“Hey, Mikey,” He purred._

_“H-hi, daddy.”_

_Michael leaned back against him as he dipped slightly, one arm hooking behind his dad’s head to secure himself while his father’s hands gripped him at the thigh and pulled him up off the ground. He adjusted him, a little, and lowered him until he was almost on his dick._

_“Gonna go slow,” He promised, huskily, “So you can savor the feeling of me spreading your cute little hole open with my cock.”_

_Michael moaned, moving his gaze to the mirror as his father pulled him down against the head of his cock and then pushed him slowly,_ **_so_ ** _slowly down onto the tip. He watched it disappear into him, felt it spread his empty hole back open. He moaned again, watching himself sink further and further onto his father’s fat cock until he was full again and shaking in his father’s grip. He put his free hand on his belly to feel his father pressing against his hand there, whining at the feeling and pushing his hand down against the feeling._

_“Daddy,” He moaned, “I’m so full… You’re so big…”_

_William shuddered, groaning, and began to lift him back up. “You’re so sweet and tight around me, baby boy… So warm… Fit my cock perfect, baby. And you like that, don’t you Mikey? You like how perfect your hole is for my cock.”_

_“I love it,” He panted, “It feels so good, daddy.”_

_“You wanted it harder, didn’t you baby boy?” He purred, “You wanted me to use you and that pretty little hole?”_

_“Y-yes, daddy,” He gasped as he was pulled back down to the base, “Yes, I want you to use me. Please, daddy, you make me feel so good…”_

_William bit down on his neck again, and he moaned, and William gripped his thighs_ **_hard_ ** _as he began to thrust up into him hard and fast, pulling him down to meet each thrust. Michael could only moan brokenly, cock jumping as he was used, walls squeezing around the cock spearing him open and jabbing his prostate over and over with too much accuracy._

_“You’re such a good little slut,” William hissed, “Should have done this a long time ago. Should have been fucking you every night instead of letting you go out and give up this sweet little hole to anyone else. Should have been taking care of my sweet little slut all this time… That’s why you were going out, wasn’t it baby? You wanted someone to take care of you because daddy wasn’t providing.”_

_“I wanted―” Michael gasped, “I wanted somebody to breed me like a filthy little whore, daddy. I wanted somebody to fill up my hole.”_

_And it wasn’t a lie, not really. He hadn’t ever wanted this from his dad, but he’d wanted it enough to start giving it out to his party friends._

_“Do I make you feel better than they did, Mikey? Does my cock make your little hole feel full?”_

_Disgustingly enough?_

_“Y-yes, daddy, you’re the biggest I’ve had… You feel s-so good.” Since he was already here at the bottom of the well of filth, he may as well play it up past what the truth was, “I want― I want more, daddy, I want to forget about the other guys who fucked me. Just want to feel you.”_

_William made a noise almost like a growl, pulling him up off of his cock once more and setting him down, turning him so he had to crane his head to see the mirror. And then he was pushing him down onto his knees, then shoving him forward onto his hands and grabbing a fistful of his hair. He shoved back into him and Michael watched, jaw slack and moans spilling out unhindered, as he began to fuck him again, harder this time. He almost couldn’t think, the feeling was so overwhelming._

_“You wanna get bred, Mikey?” William growled, “You want your daddy to pump you full of his cum?”_

_“Yes, daddy, yes,” Michael almost sobbed, and he guessed that meant his mind had officially shut off, “I want your cum in me. I wanna be dripping all day tomorrow.”_

_William’s hips snapped hard against his, cock throbbing inside of him, and he rammed into Michael’s prostate with each thrust so when he began to cum, spurting warmth into Michael’s too-willing hole, Michael could only whine. And he kept thrusting as he came, hitting that spot again and again, and Michael came as well with a cry._

_His dad didn’t stop thrusting, though―he just slowed down gradually until he was rocking leisurely into him. Michael was trembling when he finally pulled out._

_He tapped his thigh, nudging him until he rolled onto his back and looked up at him._

_William grinned, grabbing the camera and setting it close by, nudging Michael’s leg into a position he liked._

_“You wanna drip with my cum tomorrow, baby boy?” He asked, taking his place between Michael’s thighs._

_“Y-yes, daddy…”_

_“Then we’ll just have to do this a couple more times.” He chuckled, “I have something I’ve been_ **_dying_ ** _to do since I saw how pretty your cute little round ass is.”_

_And he leaned down, licking a stripe up over Michael’s already leaking hole._

_“O-oh!” Michael glanced at the mirror, seeing his dad there between his legs, head dipped low, “Oh, daddy…”_

_William just chuckled, continuing to lick his clenching, leaking hole until finally he pressed closer and pressed his tongue inside._

_And Michael laid there shuddering and moaning and whining until William finally reached over and stopped the recording, lifting up from his work to grin at Michael and kiss his thighs._

_Michael didn’t really even get a chance to move. William got up, grabbed something else out of his box, and before he knew it Michael was having an icy blue dildo roughly his dad’s size pressed into his hole. He whined, softly, and William chuckled._

_And then William picked him up, along with the camera, taking him upstairs to― to his father’s bedroom._

_He knew only one round had been too good to hope for._

_He was moving out in the morning―William was going to take every sick sex fantasy he could out on him tonight._

_He laid Michael on the bed, and Michael stayed there as he moved around the room. He hooked his little camera up to his tv, grinning, and turned to Michael. Climbed onto the bed with him and kissed him. Shoved his tongue into his mouth. Michael tried to kiss back, but mostly he just managed licking at his father’s tongue._

_“Precious little thing,” He mumbled, as he pulled back, “Such a good boy.”_

_He clenched around the toy inside of him, looking up at his father with hooded eyes and his mouth open to let him pant._

_“Daddy…” He said, softly._

_And William just grinned, leaning down to kiss his way down his neck and the small portion of his collarbone that his tank top left on display, skipping down to his partially exposed stomach and his hipbones. Down his hip to his thigh. Shifted back in between his legs and hissed up the inside of both of his thighs, slowly. Bit down on the soft skin on one side hard enough that Michael moaned._

_He kissed and licked closer and closer to his full and clenching hole, changing direction at the last second to lave his tongue over Michael’s balls and making him gasp in response. He moved up, tonguing his way up his hardening cock and kissing the underside of the head. He looked up at him and Michael looked back, unable to look away, as he wrapped his tongue around the head and sucked softly, beginning to tongue at his slit and making him whine._

_He pulled away before doing anything else, grinning that dangerous grin._

_“Feel that?” He asked, while leaning down to kiss him, and Michael knew he was asking if he felt his cock laying hard and heavy over top of his, “You’re such a sexy little thing, Mikey. I just wanna fuck you ‘til your voice gives out…”_

_“I-I want that too, daddy.” Michael whimpered, and any actual repulsion had washed out of him about the moment he started begging him to fuck him, so he was just going to ride the wave of his father’s lust until it was over and he could… He could leave, “I want to feel your cock in me until I can’t remember my name.”_

_And if he was a little too into it?_

_Well, whatever._

_He’d do what he had to in order to keep his daddy happy and make this as painless for himself as he could._

_William kissed him, hard, and then pulled away. He used his fingers to toy idly with Michael’s nipples until he was panting quietly and squirming a little, then added his mouth to the mix. And finally, he pulled back from that as well, laying down next to Michael where he could feel his cock against his hip._

_“What do you say we watch that video of how cute you are, eh?” William purred, licking his earlobe._

_Michael could only shudder, and William laughed, reaching blindly for the remote and turning the TV on. Turning the volume up. Laving his tongue over Michael’s earlobe as he pressed play. Biting down softly._

_“Hey, Mikey,” The William of barely a half hour ago said._

_“H-hi, daddy,” The Michael of that time replied._

_And the Michael of the present watched as he was lifted up, watched as he was pulled down. He whined softly, his father attacking his neck now as he watched the video play back what he’d just been party to. He listened to the wet slapping of his daddy fucking up into him, squirming and reaching his hand out until his fingers brushed that same cock and his hole clenched around the toy again. He wrapped his fingers around his daddy’s cock and began to stroke as he watched the video, and William gave a breathy chuckle into his ear, thrusting into his hand as he worked another hickey into his neck._

_He paused the video after a moment, sitting up and grabbing hold of the toy in his son’s cute little hole, pulling it out slowly and watching him shift as if trying to keep it inside of him. Like the cockhungry little whore he knew he was._

_“Sit up, honey.” He said, and watched as Michael did so._

_Michael watched, in turn, as he laid down, stroking his cock a bit, slowly. Michael glanced at the TV, then back at his father’s hand._

_“Face the TV,” William finally told him, “I want you to fuck yourself on me while you watch me wreck you.”_

_Michael whined, but did as he was told, sinking back down onto his daddy’s cock and looking at the screen. When he’d taken him to the hilt, William gripped his hip with one hand and pressed play with the other. And Michael began to ride him, watching the video and timing the rolling of his hips with the thrusts of his daddy in it._

_“... I want more…” Said the Michael on the TV, and the Michael of right now clenched around his daddy’s cock in preparation for the change in pace that was coming._

_His daddy was groaning behind him, occasionally thrusting up into him but mostly just having him do his own thing. And the wet slapping, the dirty noises of both him getting fucked in the video and him fucking himself on his daddy’s cock right now were making him whine with need. And then video-him was on his hands and knees getting_ **_pounded_ ** _and he sped his own movements to match, moaning and whining._

_“Daddy,” He moaned, “Daddy you feel so good in me. Please fill me up again, daddy, please, I want you deeper in me…”_

_William groaned, twitching hard inside of him._

_Video-him came, and video-William filled him up with his cum. He kept fucking himself in time with the thrusts of his daddy in the video, panting and feeling the knot start to form in his belly again even as he was turned over in the video and his daddy started eating him out. He was so close again, but…_

_William’s hands pulled him down roughly, his cock jerking and pulsing inside of him, filling him up again, and held him still so he could only squirm as he was filled. He whined, gasping, squirming, knotting his fingers in the blankets while his daddy held him still._

_“Daddy,” He groaned, wiggling purposefully and clenching._

_“Shhh, don’t worry baby boy,” William crooned, “Daddy’s not gonna leave you unfinished too long.”_

_His hands released Michael’s hips, and Michael wiggled his hips again, pushing back down to the base of William’s cock. William chuckled, almost sounding breathless, and swatted his hip._

_“Up, baby.” He said, and Michael pulled off of him with a low whimper, clenching around nothing to keep from spilling anything out. William nudged him, “Lay down for me.”_

_So he did, and his daddy picked up that dildo that had been in him before. Grinned at him. Slid off the bed and rifled around in his closet a moment before coming back with what Michael knew was a goddamned fuck machine. His old drug dealer had had one too, and he’d let the other guys use it on Michael… A lot._

_William got it set up, pulling Michael down to the edge of the bed after a few minutes. Michael obediently spread his legs and let his daddy line to toy up with his hole, unclenching as it pressed into him, filling him once more. William’s spend eased the slide, and Michael groaned softly._

_William started the machine slowly, teasingly, and climbed onto the bed next to Michael again. Grabbed the thigh that was closest to him and dug his nails in slightly, and Michael keened, and then he dipped down and licked his aching cock. After he’d closed his mouth around it and begun to suck, he sped the machine up in intervals, drawing back and grinning up at Michael once it was fucking into him at the same speed he’d been fucking himself on William’s cock. He moaned, thighs quivering, knot tightening in his belly._

_William wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking slowly, and Michael almost sobbed as the knot came loose all at once and he came again._

_“Pretty baby,” William crooned, and didn’t stop the machine or even slow it down._

_Michael could only whine and gasp as it continued, squirming at the overstimulation and only stilling when his father moved up to kiss him again. He was still trembling then, though, and he didn’t think he was going to stop for a long while yet. Especially not as long as he was still being fucked._

_“Precious little slut of mine,” William sighed, pulling back, smiling down at him, “You’re such a filthy little thing, aren’t you? You still want me to fill you up again? You still want to be dripping with my cum all day tomorrow?”_

_“Yes,” Michael nearly sobbed, “Yes, daddy, I want to be full of you.”_

_“Slut,” William said, fondly, “My precious little cockslut. You’re such a good boy, though. Look at you, taking it hard and asking for more even though you’re crying from how much you’ve already had. You just want to make daddy happy, don’t you baby?”_

_“I-I do, I do want to make you h-happy, daddy.”_

_William grinned, shifting up and unceremoniously tapping Michael’s cheek with his half-hard cock. Michael dropped his mouth open and let his daddy slide his cock into his throat. Let him lift his head, turn it a bit so the angle was more comfortable for both of them. And let him begin rolling his hips, pulling back only to slide into his throat once more._

_He felt him get back to full hardness in his mouth, knew part of it was the noises he was making._

_“Good boy.” William sighed, with that same fond voice from before, “You’re doing such a good job. I really should have started fucking your sweet little mouth years ago… Should have started filling you up when I noticed you coming home late so often… Bet it would have been so easy, baby. Bet you’d have still been wet and open if I’d have grabbed you by your hair and fucked you into the hallway wall. And you would have liked it, wouldn’t you? Coming home and getting another hard cock to fill you up after all the others?”_

_“Mm.” Was about the only response Michael could give with his mouth full of his daddy’s cock, but he tried anyway. Looked up at him with lidded eyes and burning cheeks._

_If his dad had ever caught him after a party and fucked him…_

_God, it would have been so hot._

_High him wouldn’t have cared what his daddy did to him, would have said yes to everything._

_“Ah, you’ll have to come visit, baby. So we can make sure you get taken care of right until you get somebody to treat you right for me.” William thrusted hard, burying himself to the hilt and staying there, petting his hair and grinning. He slowed the machine almost as an afterthought. “Maybe I can have fun with him when you get him. See if he’s a good fit for my baby boy.”_

_His cock was hard and heavy on his tongue, in his throat, and Michael whimpered softly. The idea of ever seeing his dad again at all after this was mortifying enough, let alone letting this happen again. Let alone involving anyone who was unfortunate enough to fall in love with him in it. But he was sure the whimper would be interpreted as him wanting it, which was good enough for him._

_“Mm, I think that’s enough teasing, though.” His daddy said, with a laugh, withdrawing from his mouth, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my baby boy.”_

_Michael blinked up at him, blinking the overstimulated tears from his eyes and panting now that he could breathe properly again. This was probably it, right? This would be the last time? His body ached for it to be over, despite the continued lust-high feeling in his bones, because it didn’t take treatment like this sober. He’d never gone more than a round or so sober before… It took a different tolerance level than he had naturally to let his friends all have a go with him back in high school._

_William turned the machine off, and in spite of aching for it to be over he still whined on instinct when the toy withdrew. He saw his― saw William grin, lining himself up. Groaned weakly when he pushed back in._

_Whined again when he only thrust shallowly twice before withdrawing, seeming to have some sort of idea._

_“Better idea,” He said, proving Michael’s suspicions._

_And then he was directing Michael back up the bed, until his head was on the pillows, and onto his side. Michael closed his eyes, breathing in as calmly as he could, and felt his dad settle in behind him, throwing an arm over his waist and pulling his hips toward him. His hand moved briefly back behind Michael, spreading his cheeks so he could slip back into him, then returning to hold him against his chest._

_“Such a good boy, Mikey.” He sighed, as he slid in to the hilt, “So wet and loose and open for me but still so_ **_tight._ ** _I don’t know how you do it.”_

 _And this last round was slow, to begin with, which was almost worse than if it had been fast and messy like the rest of it had been tonight―William rocked into him, kissing and sucking at the back of his neck, biting down a couple of times, digging his nails into sensitive, scarred flesh, and went_ **_so gentle_ ** _at first that Michael could only sigh with each thrust._

_Then, suddenly, with no warning at all, he began to fuck him much like before, using him more than anything else. He fucked into him and held his hips so bruisingly still he couldn’t even rock them back to meet the thrusts, and all Michael could do was moan and turn his face into the pillow in hopes of managing to muffle himself, though he didn’t manage much._

_He came with a loud noise he only barely managed to cut off with the pillow, sobbing outright from the overstimulation when William kept using him._

_But it didn’t last much longer―William cursed into the back of his neck, hips hitching, and buried himself deep with only a couple more weak thrusts as he pumped what would hopefully be the final load into his clenching, abused hole._

_“There’s a good boy, Mikey,” His dad sighed softly, rubbing his hip soothingly, “Bet you’re getting tired, huh?”_

_Michael managed little more than a weak noise because, you know what? Yeah. He was._

_It got a chuckle from William, who just continued to hold him and rub at his hip._

_“Get some sleep then, Mikey. And in the morning I can give you one last, good fuck so I know I gave you what you wanted. That sound good baby?”_

_He forced an affirmative noise, wanting to squirm as William’s hand left his hip and instead pulled him close again. Wanting to squirm when William didn’t pull out. But he held mostly still, and at this point he saw no reason not to just… Ignore it or pretend it was someone else._

_… Don, his old drug dealer… He’d done this with him once. Let him fall asleep on his cock._

_He could just pretend that was what was happening right now._

_And inevitably, the exhaustion caught up with him anyway, and he felt himself drop off._

* * *

Michael blinked awake, and for half a moment he expected to still be in his father’s bedroom, in his arms, on the morning after, with his length starting to twitch back to life inside of him―but only for half a moment. His bleary eyes took in deep blue walls still cast in shadows, distant orange light from outside his window creeping in through cracks in the curtains, a wall of posters hanging over his desk…

He wasn’t at his father’s house, and the relief was a physical sensation as he sat up and brushed sweaty hair away from his forehead.

He wasn’t at his father’s house. He moved out four years ago, without any further fight from his father, whom he hadn’t seen even once in the time since. He was in his own house, for which he paid with his own money, and it was three AM, and he lived alone.

He wasn’t waking up the morning after that night to the last, lazy round, after which he would fall back asleep until the sun was much higher in the sky, his father was gone, and all but the evidence  _ on him _ and  _ in him _ of what had happened had been cleaned up and his hoodie and pants and boxers had been left on the edge of the bed for him, with something in his hoodie pocket that he wouldn’t find until he was pulling the hoodie on after a shower.

He…

He was at home.

By himself.

He sighed out his relief, pressing a hand to his chest, pressing the cross on his necklace into the skin until it stung his hand and his chest in equal measures. He wasn’t religious, not even remotely, but the cross still made him feel better and by now he was so used to wearing it that he wouldn’t take it off unless he had to, either from sentiment or from the fact that it was a convenient grounding technique.

Taking another breath, he glanced down in annoyance at the reaction his body had had to the nightmare―but this was standard fare. It would go away if he just ignored it.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking at his clock, and sighed at the realization that it really was to be another day started at three in the morning. It made his hands itch for―for something he couldn’t give them just yet. It wasn’t time for that. He needed to wake up and get ready first.

He was glad he’d left that to be finished off today.

An early start to the day, no matter how annoying, would be immensely helpful with this. If he got it done before sunrise he was still technically ahead of schedule, and if he got it done before noon he was on time as far as he was concerned. It was just that getting it done before the sun came up was the better plan.

The clock ticked to 2:58, and he got up, stretching.

Okay.

A shower, a change of clothes, and then he could go finish his work. And if he got done before sunrise, he could go see his niece and nephew for lunch. They’d like that, he was sure, and admittedly he needed a little time with them.

They were little  _ monsters, _ sure, as most kids usually were, but they always lifted his mood―for  _ some reason _ they liked him and they always wanted to tell him about their new favorite show, or their new story idea. And he enjoyed not needing to say anything except the occasional encouraging remark. With the kids he could just sit on the floor with them while they talked and they’d be happy, and he didn’t need to do or say anything the whole time if he really didn’t want to because they could tell when he didn’t feel good and would just watch his face to see if he was still paying attention.

Okay, calling them monsters wasn’t fair, he’d admit.

He snorted to himself as he tossed his boxers into the hamper and grabbed today’s clothes out of his dresser, pacing to the bathroom and ignoring his lower half entirely, or as best he could. Thankfully the more he thought about the kids the less interested his body was in anything remotely sexual.

That was always good.

But yeah.

Calling them little monsters wasn’t fair, because Lily and Ryker were good kids, due in part to the fact that Jason and Raleigh were good parents. Definitely better than their parents or, god forbid,  _ Michael’s parents, _ had been. They listened to their kids and taught them the fine art of boundaries and how to respect them and set them, and they were such good respectful little kids as a result that he’d never heard Jason or Raleigh so much as raise their voices at them unless it was genuinely for the purpose of making sure the kids heard them from across the house.

He’d certainly never personally had a problem with them…

Except that they called him ‘Mikey’, but there was only so much you could expect from kids. Maybe ‘Mike’ was too weird to them.

Who knew.

He stepped into the shower, stupid misguided nightmare erection now fully gone from both the cold water and thoughts of his niece and nephew, and spent a few moments taking care of the essentials. Washed out and combed his tangled, sweaty hair, ensured that he’d scrubbed every old, faded scar he could get to to get the sweat that had seeped into any that were still depressed enough…

It was a typical shower, and after fifteen minutes or so he was stepping out. He toweled himself off, blow-dried and brushed his hair, and pulled it up into a messy bun on the back of his head to keep it out of the way. Got dressed.

Grabbed his keys and phone and headed out to his car, starting to feel a little better and getty sort of giddy. He probably liked doing this more than he should, but―well. Someone had to do it, and if it wasn’t him it would be someone who didn’t care.

But he cared.

He rumbled off down the road quietly, seeing nothing and no one that was unusual as he headed down the city streets and off down a side road that led into the countryside. He hummed along to the music coming from his speakers, watching the clock tick closer and closer to 3:30 and having a very hard time minding that he was wasting time going so slowly. It wouldn’t do to just take off at top speed and chance racing past a cop―he’d only lose even more time that way.

Finally he pulled up to the little abandoned cabin in the middle of the closest there came to being woods around here, smiling as he idled in front of it. It was such a nice little place…

Definitely deserving of a renovation, though.

He chuckled, stepping on out of the car and shutting the door. He paced his way up the steps of the porch, unlocked the front door and entered. Strained his ears for any noises. Never knew when the ‘coons would start kicking up a fuss and trying to break into the cabinets again, after all.

There was a soft shuffling somewhere off in the darkness of the cabin, somewhere below him, and he bit his lip hard to keep from chuckling again.

Walked slow and quiet to the door down into the cellar.

The shuffling came again. There was a sniffle.

He grabbed the lantern off the first step of the stairs, letting the door swing mostly closed behind him as he descended into the darkness. He worked on the lantern a moment, until the wick lit. Hung it up on the hanging hook in the middle of the room.

Turned and smiled.

Bleary and terrified eyes stared back at him.

“Sleep well?” He asked, conversationally, walking in that same slow, quiet way over to the man sitting against the wall. No answer came, of course―the duct-tape prevented that. “I sure hope you did. Wouldn’t do for you to not be well-rested.”

He knelt down, watching the man flinch back instinctively, and had to suppress a laugh when he reached out to grab his chin, bring his eyes back to his. The man swallowed, hard. But he didn’t flinch or try to get out of Michael’s hold.

“I’m gonna untie you,” Michael crooned softly, “And we’re gonna go upstairs, yeah?” He watched the man’s eyes widen in surprise, maybe even more fear, “And if you’re  _ really _ nice on the way up and after that, I might just let you go. You’d have to promise not to tell anyone, of course.”

He watched him swallow again, eyes wide and unsure.

It was hard to believe this man was older than him― _ ten years _ older than him. And he thought he was such a big, strong guy before Michael got him, too…

“Does that sound good?”

The man hesitated, but nodded.

It really was a shame that Michael had to lie to him―but it was always so much easier than the truth. Men like this… They broke so easily. So cleanly. The moment you took power from them and made them feel afraid, they were putty in your hands… Convenient, when one planned to take them apart piece by piece, but  _ so _ lacking in any spice or  _ fun. _

Or, well.

Michael suppressed a laugh, suppressed a smile, as he reached up to untie the man’s wrists, leaving the rope dangling and watching the man so hesitantly rub at the bruised, rope-burned skin. Like he was afraid that Michael was going to kick the shit out of him just for moving without permission.

It was a funny thought.

He’d never even hit this guy―not once.

He didn’t have to.

The threat of it and the fact that Michael had managed to drug him and get him here without any problems kept him in line and kept him scared.

There had been others, before, who thought somehow that Michael drugging them in order to get them here and never  _ actually _ hitting them meant he was somehow weaker than they were. That he was scared.

They always learned their lesson in the end.

He didn’t like killing people when they were tied up, after all, so letting them go ‘free’ and then hunting them down in the trees and dragging them back here by their hair while they kicked and screamed and fought back was his usual go-to with those ones.

This guy…

Well.

Michael almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

But only one of them could drug people and drag them off somewhere, as far as Michael was concerned, because Michael?

Well, he only did it to people like this guy, usually.

Not teenage girls. Not barely legal girls. Not twenty-something boys he just met.

And he certainly didn’t use them for his own pleasure, unless the glee of breaking them down and killing them counted.

He was a horrible person, but he wasn’t a rapist.

He at least had that much over his father.

He straightened out, smiling, and offered a hand to his captive.

It was a good thing he’d done so many drugs in high school, really―if he hadn’t, this guy would have done any number of things to him… But a little rohypnol in his drink wasn’t enough to put him out of commission anymore.

Shame, for this guy at least.

The fucker reached up and took his hand, though, and he helped him to his feet. He’d bet this guy really had learned his lesson―if he got away, he’d never be the same. It would be poetic irony, really, if Michael put him back out in the world broken like he was. It would be, arguably, what he deserved.

But Michael only got so much enjoyment out of the thought of it, you know? There was only so much risk he could take with things like this. If he let him go, he might tell the police. He might eventually go back to what he’d been doing before.

Not to mention, letting someone live with this kind of break in their brain? Well, it was a fate worse than death, which, ideally, was what people like him  _ deserved, _ but… Hm. Killing him was a more concrete plan to get rid of him for good.

Now came one of Michael’s favorite parts, when dealing with guys like this.

He may have lied to himself a little, earlier, when he said he didn’t drug people and bring them here and use them for his own pleasure. He did, sometimes―usually guys who had tried to do it to him. But it was especially fun to do it once they were broken down. Promise them something nice before they died, you know?

Or before he ‘let them go’.

And they always fell for it. Even once they were broken down and terrified of him, they always jumped at the opportunity to touch him.

This guy would be no different, he was sure.

He chuckled, patting his cheek as he stepped back. “Keep up, alright?”

The man nodded.

And Michael headed to the stairs, stopping once he got there and turning back to find his captive had been keeping up very well and had to stop rather suddenly, stumbling a little because he hadn’t expected Michael to stop walking. Michael smiled at him again. Watched him swallow.

“You know,” He started, slowly, “You  _ have _ been pretty well-behaved this whole time. Better than the last one, for sure.”

He saw a spark of something in the man’s eyes, maybe hope. Maybe something else―it was hard to tell in lantern-light.

“Maybe I should reward you for that, before I let you go.”

He saw him tense, fingers twitching. Eyes widening a little and nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath in through his nose.

“I think I know pretty well what you wanted from me that night,” He chuckled, purposely cocking out a hip just to watch his eyes follow the movement, “So how about I let you have a little of that, hm?”

The man’s hands twitched again. He swallowed hard. And Michael just grinned. Stepped down off the first step, where he’d stopped, right back into the man’s personal space. Heard his breathing pick up. Could see his pulse thrumming in his veins.

He reached out to grab his wrists softly, pulling them up until his hands rested on his hips.

“Here.” He purred, and the man instantly squeezed slightly. “I know you were probably hoping for the main event, but maybe I’ll let you fuck my thighs once we get upstairs. You’re the first one to be so well-behaved, after all… I usually just let them look at me and jerk it―though something tells me you wouldn’t turn down that opportunity either.”

The man swallowed hard once more, but shook his head.

Michael smiled, stepping just that little bit closer so their hips were touching and feeling him twitching to life there. Put his hands on the guy’s shoulders.

“You just keep being good,” He said, “And it  _ will _ be my thighs.”

The man nodded, nostrils flaring again.

And Michael pulled away, listening to a low whine leave the man. God, this was always the best part with guys like him. He really did just usually have them jerk it while looking at him after he let them touch a little, but he usually wasn’t looking for anything more than the ego boost that came from watching them be desperate for him to the point they’d jerk off in front of him because he told them that was all they were allowed to do.

This morning, he was feeling a  _ little _ on the horny side. He wanted to get that dream out of his head as quickly as possible, and this was always a good way to do it.

He headed on up the stairs, swinging his hips, and he knew the man was right on his heels.

He came to a stop in the kitchen area of the cabin. Turned back to the man and smiled.

“May as well take off your pants,” He said, and delighted in the way he hadn’t even had to  _ order _ the man to take his pants off for him to almost immediately work his way out of them. Grinning, he grabbed the bottle of lube he’d sort of just left on the counter last time. “You’ll probably be needing this in a few minutes, but not yet. C’mere, let me get that duct-tape off of you. See if you’re really going to be good enough.”

The man approached, but didn’t touch him yet. Just stood and waited.

“I’m going to do this quickly,” He warned, “So try not to scream.”

He got the barest hints of a nod, and then he was tearing the tape off of his mouth. The man yelped, but didn’t scream. And he stood very still afterwards.

Michael couldn’t contain his snicker this time, reaching up to stroke a thumb over the red skin next to the man’s mouth. It wasn’t sticky anymore―that wasn’t unusual.

“Hands on my hips,” He said, and the man obeyed immediately, “Now get down here and kiss me.”

It was far from the best kiss he’d ever received, and ultimately he wasn’t all that into it. It was just an older dude doing  _ probably _ what he thought was a good job and what Michael thought was pretty mediocre. But he’d had a group of friends who were all stellar kissers and who had all made out with him and each other, so he probably had more experience with kissing conscious people than this guy did.

Still, it was enough to get him more interested than he had been.

Finally, pulling away, he leaned back against the counter and offered the guy the lube. “I’ll even let you pick if you wanna lube your dick or my thighs.”

The man swallowed, eyes flicking downward as he took the lube.

Michael chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head and laying it on the counter―he wouldn’t need it after this. It was less messy to clean up if he was naked. He saw the guy’s eyes cling to the scars scattered across his chest and hips and arms and he just grinned at him.

“You can take my pants off for me.” He purred, and wasn’t surprised when he immediately hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down.

He stepped out of them, kicking them aside and leaning back again.

The guy took a deep breath. And then he got to work.

And Michael stood there, smirking, while the guy’s shaking hands rubbed lube into his thighs. He almost seemed reverent, and Michael just… Ah. There was the ego boost. He felt powerful and in control―and that was really one of the primary reasons he did this.

Aside, of course, from ridding the world of people like his dad, or people who pissed him off, or… Well. You get the point.

Eventually he pushed him back a bit, watching his eyes turn alarmed. He smiled at him.

“I’m gonna turn around.” He said, “And if you try anything I haven’t told you you can do…”

He left the threat hanging, but the guy nodded. And he turned. Felt the guy get in close and slide in between his thighs.

It wasn’t, in the end, anything special. Michael would probably put it out of his mind before noon even came around. He made noises, encouraged the guy, and  _ did _ enjoy the feeling of having his thighs fucked, but it was hardly enough to finish him. So after the guy finished, splattering his thighs with cum, he let him take a step back to catch his breath.

He didn’t really feel like chasing him down, really just wanted to get it over with at this point.

So he calmly glanced over his shoulder, seeing the guy had his eyes closed, breath coming in pants, and reached out to grab the axe he’d left on the counter within reach.

… He’d never been covered in cum and blood at the same time. Might be fun.

He picked up the axe, slowly, silently turning. Hefted it.

Swung.

A splatter of blood and the guy would never have known what hit him. He was already gone, which was a shame, but Michael was done messing with it for now. It would take a while to dispose of him, and he still had something else to do before then.

Did it make him disgusting to laugh when he sat down the blood splattered axe and gripped his still-hard cock with his equally blood-splattered hand?

Did it make him disgusting to finish over the mess he’d made?

Probably yes, to both.

But whatever. It wasn’t like it would matter in the end. He was going to hell no matter what he did at this point, so he may as well rack up all the nasty shit he could so it’d be worth it.

And that made him laugh, too.

Go big or go home.

This had been something of a new experience, at least, so he could say he’d done it. Probably wasn’t going to do it  _ again, _ but he’d certainly done it the one time. Just this once.

He popped his neck, picking his axe back up, and swung.

It spoke to how very often he’d done this that it took very little time to have what had once been a slimey, sorry excuse of a human turned into a head and a pile of assorted chunks. He tossed them down back into the basement, spent a moment rinsing and drying his hands so he could pick up his pants and toss them on the counter with his shirt, then tossed the ready-made bucket of bleach-water over the tile floor. He’d deal with the walls later.

He sloshed through the bleach-water popping his neck again and cracking his knuckles as he descended the stairs. Pulled the 55-gallon drum from the corner behind the stairs, piled in some of the chunks, and dribbled gas over them. Lit a match and dropped it in, then picked up the head.

The next couple of hours or so were spent tossing other pieces into the drum when the ones that had been in there were reduced to little else but ashes while he pried each and every tooth from the guy’s severed head. Most of them, he sat on the workbench to be shattered with the nearby hammer. The incisors he plopped into a cleaning mixture, as usual.

He dropped the head into the drum, whole, once he had the teeth removed.

And then it was a matter of turning the assorted teeth into dust.

He swept the tiny chunks that remained into a dustpan and dumped them unceremoniously into the waning fire. The head would have to be crushed down and probably burned again... But he had pretty much everything dealt with that he needed to have dealt with this morning where the actual body was concerned.

He went back upstairs, flicked on the overhead lights. Grabbed a mop and scrubbed at the floor, then the walls, and ‘swept’ the dirty liquid through the cellar door to let it dribble into the dirt.

Satisfied, he kicked his shoes and socks off in the little half-bath and scrubbed the dried blood and cum off so he could get dressed again. Those loose sweats and that tank top were going to feel  _ heavenly _ once he got back into them. Nice and warm, perfect on a cold morning like this.

After getting re-dressed he made his way back out to his car, sighing happily and watching the cloud rise up from his mouth at the action. Ah, yes. It was going to be a great day.

… If he could just get the nightmare, the  _ memory, _ back out of his brain.

This was the first time he’d had to deal with it in…  _ Months, _ probably. It was at least the first time this season he’d had it invade his brain like this and refuse to budge back out for any length of time. He had plenty of ways to get rid of it temporarily, but it was a process of just… Doing that over and over until it went away on its own again.

He was a little bitter about it being back, but… Ugh. The little victories, he guessed―he used to have that nightmare  _ every night,  _ for the first couple of months he lived alone. And every night again, a few months later, after he’d finally looked to see what was on the flashdrive his father had left in his pocket and found  _ that video. _ Now he had it every couple months, at most, and he didn’t even have to slam coke like it was going out of business and stay awake for days on end to keep it at bay like he’d had to three years ago.

He hadn’t done anything more extreme than a hit of weed in the last two years, actually, and the weed was so rare he could say with certainty he’d pretty much kicked the addiction.

He sighed again, slipping into his car and starting it.

The sun was just up over the horizon now, so he’d technically managed to finish his task before the sun came up. The final bits of cleanup could come later tonight, after he’d had some uncle time and maybe kicked that nightmare in the teeth hard enough that it’d stay gone so he could sleep.

He pulled up quietly in the parking lot of his little workshop―he could open early today, take an hour lunch with the kids… Close early, too. He deserved it.

He slipped out of his sweats in the back room and into a pair of jeans he kept back there, pulling a jacket on over his tank top.

The morning was a slow one, even by his standards, and he only had two customers before noon came and he locked up to go to lunch.

Arriving at Jay and Rae’s place, the kids were already running out the door before he he’d even gotten out of the car.

“Uncle Mikey!” They yelled, and he laughed, opening his arms and half-bending so he could scoop them both up into his arms.

“Hey, kiddos.” He greeted, feeling himself settle a little. “You guys are gonna be too big for me to hold both of you, soon.”

“No we won’t,” Lily snorted, “You can carry mama and papa at the same time.”

He suppressed a laugh, “For short periods of time.” He conceded.

“You carried uncle Don for two hours that one time,” Ryker pointed out.

“Ah, you’ve got me,” He chuckled, hefting them a little higher and listening to them laugh at being jostled, “I’ll probably be able to carry you ‘til I’m old and gray like your pop-pop.”

They giggled again, and he carried them back inside, to where Rae was waiting, amused even with her hands on her hips.

“Now what have I told you two about accosting your uncle Mike as soon as he gets here?” She scolded, with no heat in her voice and a smile on her lips.

“Only do it if he’s not carrying anything!” Both the kids chimed, grinning, and Michael and Rae both descended into snickers.

“So,” He began, when they’d all sobered, addressing Rae, “You alright with me taking them out for lunch?”

Rae rolled her eyes, “Of course.” She snorted, “The less I have to cook on weekends the better.”

“Of course,” Michael snickered back at her, “You coming with?”

“And intrude on your time with them?” She quirked a brow, “C’mon, Micah. They haven’t seen you in a week.”

He chuckled, and so did she.

He sat the kids down, “Alright, go on.”

And with a cheer that had him rubbing his ears once they’d left the room, Lily and her big brother took off to change their clothes and put on their shoes. They usually did this a couple times a week during breaks, and usually on Saturdays (like today) when they were still in school. It was a schedule that usually worked out pretty well for them, especially when it coincided with both of their parents needing to work more often than usual so that Michael stayed over to watch them.

“You’d make such a good dad.” Rae sighed at him, not for the first time.

“Still don’t want kids of my own.” He replied,  _ also _ not for the first time, quirking a brow at her. “What brings it up this time?”

She shook her head, “Same as usual―those two adore you, and you’re  _ definitely _ more patient with them and every other kid I’ve watched you interact with in the last four years than you are with adults.”

“I expect adults to know better.” He pointed out, “Kids are still learning… Not to mention, kids  _ definitely _ turn out better when you’re patient with them.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Rae sighed, “Lils and Ry are certainly more friendly and socially adept than I was at their age.”

“Same.”

“... You really don’t want any of your own?” When he gave her a somewhat flat look, she held up her hands in surrender, “Sorry, I know I’ve asked before. I just… You seem happier when you’re taking care of them.”

“I am, a little.” He sighed, scrubbing his face, “But for one, I’m  _ not _ contributing my DNA to the gene pool if I can avoid it,” At her badly-muffled laugh, he rolled his eyes, not as annoyed as he probably would have been if it was anyone else, “And second? It’s different if they’re not my kids. I can give them back to their parents when I need a break if I’m just the uncle.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” She smiled, shaking her head.

The sound of the kids coming back downstairs kept the conversation from going further. Michael found himself smiling as well, popping his head out to see Lily stumbling down the hall still pulling her socks up to her knees, skirt hiked up and face scrunched in concentration. Michael… Probably would have been a lot more mortified if he didn’t know Rae had drilled it into the kid to always wear shorts under her skirts if she wasn’t wearing tights.

Ryker, for his part, was yanking on a pair of his boots and lacing them up as fast as he could. He tossed a pair at his little sister for her to pull on as well.

“Alright, I guess they’re pretty much ready.” He snorted, “I’ll have ‘em back in an hour.”

“Dames and Chris will be swinging by tonight,” Rae called after him as he left the room, not bothering to reply to his promise, since by this point he could have taken the kids and she wouldn’t get worried until Monday since she trusted him, “You gonna stop by too?”

“Probably,” He glanced back at her, ignoring the weird schoolboy flutter in his stomach at that, “Y’know I love messing with Chris. Can’t pass up an opportunity to do that.”

“Of course. You just want to have an excuse to suplex him onto the trampoline like the children you both are.”

“You know me too well.” He snapped her a two-fingered salute, winking, and ushered the kids on out the front door and into his car.

Once they were situated in the back seat, he glanced at them in the rearview mirror.

“McDonalds?” He asked, conspiratorially, and both of them grinned.

And the lunch went about how he expected it to―the kids talked his ears off while they sat in McDonalds, in between mouthfuls of food, and they talked some more as they were leaving, and all the way up to them arriving back home. Did he have a mild headache by then? Yeah. Was it worth it? Also yeah.

If he could be a positive influence into their lives just by being around and taking them to lunch every week and letting them talk to him, he wanted to. It was about the only good thing he’d probably be able to do in his life that wasn’t subjective. Not to mention he loved the little brats and he wanted them safe and happy, and he was always glad to provide some safety and happiness.

His afternoon went about as slowly as the morning had, but finishing off the morning’s repair jobs and handing them off to the customers, then finishing the afternoon ones and handing them off still earned him enough money to more than make up for the kids’ lunch. His service was expensive, but considering he could fix pretty much everything that was brought in? It was usually something the customers considered ‘worth it’.

Just the first order of the day had refilled the small spot the meal had emptied out of his wallet and then some, and by the end of the day he had his mortgage payment for the month. Combined with the rest of this month’s money and what he’d probably earn by the end of the month? Well, the cost of operation, his shop rent, his mortgage, all his groceries and bills, and the weekly lunches with his niblings were taken care of with a savings left over, the majority of which would of course be left in his bank until it was needed with a little around in cash for emergencies.

That wasn’t even counting what he got out of the pockets of his darling victims, nor what he’d make if he happened to get contracted by any of the local businesses to run maintenance on any of their technology, or if he got commissioned to build a device of some kind.

His point being, generally, that he was rolling in dough.

Which was… Much better than he expected from life when he’d started his business, but he guessed snooping in his dad’s blueprints and watching him and Henry work had paid off in the end. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t have formal training, usually, because his quality of work was pretty much unrivaled.

Ha, not that it really mattered.

Still.

With the shop closed for the day and a hefty paycheck sure to come on Friday, he had little left to do but clean up a little and get ready to head back to Jay and Rae’s house. Was he going to be early? Probably.

They wouldn't mind, though. He knew they wouldn’t.

He idled outside their house a moment to adjust his necklace and fix his hair into a better approximation of a bun than the mess it had become since his 3AM wakeup call, and then he was on his way to the door. Jay opened it right as he arrive, grinning and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walked in.

“Short day?”

“More like a very long one,” He snorted, “So I let myself off early.”

Jay nodded in understanding, not bothering to bring up what he already knew Michael meant by that. He just tossed him a grin and ushered him through the house and out the back door, and they spent the next hour or so getting things ready. Any time Chris and Damien stopped by, it was a guarantee that Don was going to be coming as well, and the likelihood of Lucy stopping in was pretty high.

So they usually turned visits like this into barbeques. No reason not to, after all.

… It was more stability and positive interaction than Michael had ever had growing up, so he kind of clung to this sort of thing and he  _ really _ appreciated that they happened very frequently. Not to mention that all of the high school crew would be meeting up for Thanksgiving in a few weeks, and Don was planning a Halloween party for the adults, which was one of only a handful of nights a year when Lily and Ryker would be with someone who wasn’t family or as good as in order to let their parents and all their ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ like Michael and Lucy and Don and Mara have some good old-fashioned fun without having to worry about keeping it kid friendly.

But yeah.

Michael lived for the stability and…  _ Promise, _ he guessed, of  _ continued _ stability.

It was nice.

They’d just finished setting up the patio furniture and the food when a cheer went up from within the house, announcing the timely arrival of Chris and Damien.

Don and Lucy would probably be here within the next fifteen minutes or so―just long enough for Chris and Damien to say their hellos and pry themselves from the hands of the excited children to come out back. At which point Michael did, in fact, fully intend to suplex Chris onto the trampoline.

Like the child he was.

“Heya, Mike!” Was the eventual greeting he got from Chris, at about the moment another gleeful cheer went up in the house. “You look like ass, dude.”

“I’m still prettier than you,” Michael snorted, pulling him into a side-hug and knocking their heads together.

“You got better genes,” Chris agreed, in a bemoaning tone, only to end up shrieking at a much higher pitch than his normal voice when Michael swept him up,  _ “Mike don’t you dare!” _

But it was too late.

Michael was already body-slamming him onto the trampoline.

He cursed, then laughed, and all too soon Michael was legging it around the back yard with Chris hot on his tail. Seeing Damien exit onto the back porch where Jay was watching, Michael hopped onto the trampoline seeing as it was quicker than going around it, and almost slid in his haste to hide behind Chris’ little brother.

“Meat shield!” He called, to which Damien laughed and Chris gave an annoyed groan.

“Again, Micah?” Damien asked, glancing over his shoulder at him but not seeming at all annoyed or exasperated.

Michael flashed him a grin, watching him turn a little red and revelling in it while simultaneously trying not to turn into a tomato himself.

“He just knows you’re a convenient out,” Chris sighed, “If only I hated you like most older brothers.”

Michael stuck his tongue out while Damien rolled his eyes and smiled in that way that conveyed just a  _ little _ exasperation.

“Shitheads.” He snorted, pushing his short bangs up back out of his face.

When Chris moved on (though he and Michael were, historically, nowhere near done with their tomfoolery), Michael slid from behind Damien and pulled him into a one-armed hug as well. Damien returned it with the same pressure, respectfully letting go as soon as Michael did.

They talked, like usual, even as Lucy and Don and the kids, and eventually Rae, all joined them outside.

Michael… Michael liked Damien.

A lot.

Kind of always had, but especially since coming off all the drugs and really getting to know him, since he’d usually hung out with his brother back in high school. Part of it was in the way that Damien was… A little  _ less _ than everyone else in their typical group. A little less party-ready, a little less rowdy, a little less into the drugs and sex back when those were more popular pass-times for them… Just a little  _ less _ in general, you know? Which made him pretty easy to hang around. And part of it, of course, laid a little deeper than that, in the fact that Damien was generally a pretty submissive sort of guy.

Did Michael hate knowing he was partially attached to this guy because he would be  _ really _ easy to push around if he decided to do that? Yeah.

But there wasn’t much he could do about it, and most of his attachment laid more in actually liking him, so he’d just have to hope it never came to anything where him being so submissive would be… Terribly much of a boon.

Generally, he liked the guy because he was quiet, he was gentle, he was creative and passionate and friendly and respectful, and Michael couldn’t think of a single time they’d ever gotten into an argument or come close to one without there being a good reason for it. Damien had, after all, been the one to get Michael to kick drugs the second time around. That hadn’t been an easy thing to convince him of. That had taken one  _ hell _ of a fight.

Submissive dude… Until he set his mind to something. Which Michael respected.

And he could also respect the trust Damien had in him, even if he didn’t always understand it―much like the kids, Damien was a little excitable. He liked to talk and if you gave him an opportunity that  _ didn’t _ feel like you were just sort of dissociating while he vibrated out of his skin telling you about something, he’d talk until he got interrupted or until you told him to stop. Michael… Didn’t usually tell him to stop.

Right now, because Michael was sort of sitting there and watching him and nodding along (because he  _ was _ listening, he just wasn’t quite absorbing everything), Damien was talking about some show or another that he’d binged recently. Michael tried very hard to tune back in, but… Hm.

Damien was cute when he was rambling.

Not that he wasn’t cute the rest of the time, it was just…

Ugh.

He was just really,  _ really _ gay for Damien, okay?

He didn’t even know why he was still thinking about it.

Probably because he was trying to distract himself and there was little else that felt as good to get distracted thinking about than Damien. Regrettably he sort of had a history of doing this once Damien started talking.

Okay.

Trying again to actually pay attention, come on brain.

“― and  _ then _ it turns out that the Hordak who’s running everything is  _ actually _ just a clone of a  _ different _ Hordak, and he falls in love with Entrapta, and―”

Michael blinked.

… Was he…

Had he binged the She-Ra reboot?

Was that what was going on here?

Because Michael was  _ pretty _ sure Entrapta was a She-Ra character, but he  _ could _ be wrong.

And it was too far along in the ramble to mention he’d been off in his own head for the majority of it and ask what show this was. Oops.

“― Oh, and there’s this character called Double Trouble, and they’re such a little  _ bastard _ but God do I love them for it. And they’re canonically non-binary too! Which was neat. And―”

Oh, yep. She-Ra reboot.

He remembered Lily losing her little mind over the cool green character who wasn’t a girl  _ or _ a boy. She was… Really excited about it. Up until then she’d never seen a character like that, so of course she’d talked Michael’s ear off about it. Primarily, he knew, because of her ‘aunt’ Lucy not being a boy or a girl either.

Lucy just didn’t mind being called an ‘aunt’ since there really wasn’t a neutral word for it that any of them could think of and they did  _ not _ want to be called an ‘uncle’.

He still remembered asking them what ‘Lucy’ was short for when they mentioned it being a nickname, and the deadpan expression on their face when they’d replied, “Lucifer.”

God.  _ Focus. _

“― but anyways, you good? You seem a little distracted.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I― God, I swear I was listening, I just…” Michael rubbed the back of his head.

“Oh, no, I getcha.” Damien laughed, “I know I was probably going off a little too hard.”

“No, it wasn’t that. You know I like listening when you go off.” Michael grinned sheepishly, “I just… Kinda got lulled into one of those ‘man, I’m comfy and experiencing something I enjoy’ sort of dissociations.”

Damien’s face lit up a little, and it was true so Michael didn’t even have to consider feeling bad. He’d gotten comfortable, and he really did like listening to Damien ramble, so it had just… Led to his brain going off on a different track. One that maybe had involved too much mental imagery of kissing the dopey little smile off of Damien’s face.

And now he was about to do it again, god  _ dammit. _

He tried to stay mentally present for the rest of the discussion, only letting his brain dwell on his cute face or how long his silky blonde hair was getting lately for a couple of seconds before he forced himself to tune back in. It was difficult, and he hated it.

But the constant distractions were better than what his brain would be dwelling on without them, so…

Eventually the conversation sort of petered out naturally, at which point Michael tossed Damien a smile.

“I better let your brother suplex me before it gets too late in the evening or it’ll just be worse.”

Damien snickered, “Don’t hurt yourselves,”

“No promises.”

And of course, the whole time that Michael and Chris screwed around, the kids were cheering and Don kept telling Chris to elbow-drop him. It was nice.

Definitely a more healthy outlet for his energy and the annoyance creeping up on him with every brief memory of that  _ dream _ than any of his other usual methods.

But eventually the kids needed to go to bed and the sun had sunk below the horizon and, generally, it was pretty much time to finish up. They were adults, sure, but they all had lives to get back to―although they all knew Don’s workday was just beginning, as was Lucy’s.

After considering it for a  _ long _ moment as he got ready to leave, Michael decided it was pretty much high time he started at least dropping hints. He’d been pining for years… It was time, you know? But he just… Didn’t want it to move too fast.

So he pulled Damien into a one-armed hug before he left and pressed a kiss to his forehead instead of anywhere else, and he left before Damien could even do anything but turn red.

He got a text on his way back out to the cabin, and it made him snicker a little when he looked at it.

_ Dames: bro _

It was closely followed by another, this one not from Damien, but making him snicker hard enough he almost swerved off the road nonetheless.

_ Chris: bRO!!!! _

To Damien he simply sent a wink, and to Chris…

_ M: >:3c _

He was getting out of the car when his phone vibrated again.

_ Dames: mike thats gay _

He snorted to himself, walking up onto the porch.

_ M: yea and _

When Damien’s only reply was a flushed emoji, Michael considered that a win. Hopefully he could think about that while he was falling asleep tonight… Maybe he’d have a good dream.

Been a while since he dreamed about like, cuddling and shit.

_ Chris: god dude what did you say to my brother?? he’s bright red you best not be sexting him i’ll fight _

_ M: listen he told me that me kissing his forehead was gay and i said “yea and”, not my fault he can’t handle the Truth _

_ Chris: oh my gooddddddddddddd _

He snorted again, making his way down into the basement by the flashlight of his phone and re-lighting the lantern and hanging it back up in its place. He poured a little more gas into the drum since there were still bone shards and ignited them, going to pull the two remaining teeth from the cleaning solution and drying them, then tucking them into his pocket to take them home.

Had to keep a trophy, didn’t he?

Ha.

But for real, they made good earrings and bracelet charms.

The next hour or so was quiet, and there weren’t many texts exchanged, although Jay  _ did _ send him a poggers meme with no context. Not that context was needed. He knew.

With the contents of the drum more or less down to tiny shards and ashes, he decided it was good enough to take. So he hauled the drum upstairs, capped it, put it in the passenger’s seat, and droved the secluded road to the river less than a mile away. Dumped its contents into the flowing water and watched them swirl away and then took the drum back to the cabin, where it belonged.

His phone buzzed right as he was getting back into his car.

_ Dames: micah _

_ Dames: what are we _

Well that was quick. Uh.

Fuck.

_ M: i mean what do you WANT us to be?? _

_ Dames: jfc _

_ Dames: idk _

_ Dames: fucking _

_ Dames: idk dude im GAY _

_ M: same _

_ M: wanna make out about it? _

_ Dames: yeah actually maybe i DO wanna make out about it _

_ M: well then we can make out about it tomorrow _

_ M: say noonish? _

_ M: maybe after i take you to lunch? _

_ Dames: count me in you sly fucker _

_ M: great i’ll pick you up then _

_ Dames: fuck dammit i’m going to scream _

_ Dames: i hate you _

_ Dames: <3 _

Michael realized, at about that moment, that he was grinning.

_ M: <3 _

_ M: sleep well _

_ Dames: you too you fuckin _

_ Dames: aaaaa <3 _

Michael started the car, still grinning, and wondered why he hadn’t said or done anything about this sooner. He just… Immediately felt better. Anxious, sure, but  _ way _ happier than he had been when he was going out of his way to act like he wasn’t genuinely crushing on him.

He was pulling into his driveway when his phone vibrated again. Probably for the last time tonight, he imagined. Everyone had to sleep at some point.

_ Chris: id give you a shovel speech, really i would, but i think we both know youre too gay for my brother to even consider hurting him. good luck on that date, hes vibrating out of his skin about it right now _

_ M: i resemble that statement _

_ M: make sure he gets some sleep lol _

_ Chris: oh, i will _

And Michael stripped on out of his clothes, pulled his hair out of the bun it was already falling out of again. Brushed his hair out, braided it. Plugged his phone in for the night. Sat down on the edge of his bed and realized he was still smiling.

God, please let him sleep peacefully.

He flopped back, took a breath, and closed his eyes. Tried to just… Just get his brain back to the point where it would ride the ‘gay for Damien’ train until he fell asleep. He would  _ really _ appreciate only thinking about his  _ technically _ boyfriend until he fell asleep, actually. Like, that would be pretty cool.

And far,  _ far _ superior to thinking about his nasty-ass dad and what he’d done to him.

So he latched on as tightly as he could to how Damien had been smiling while he talked earlier tonight and imagined being able to brush his hair out of his face and kiss him silly from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was... A long chapter. Like really long. Like almost 20K long.
> 
> So if you made it this far: thanks! Let me know what you thought, but please know I'm not taking like... Critiques on this. You can let me know if there was something you didn't enjoy ~~like the entire first part of the chapter, for instance, wouldn't blame you for that~~ and I'll take it in stride and keep it in mind, but as far as telling me to change something or pointing out any spelling or grammar errors I missed in my re-reads, don't bother.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading!
> 
> See you in the next chapter lmao, but expect slow updates! I have a lot of other projects + university coursework to occupy me so this chapter was written in a hyperfocused haze over the course of like 14 total hours


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